A Different Type Of Electrifying Performance

The monsoons have totally kicked in around here with rain for the past four days. This is an essay related to that with a flash and boom tinge to it. Originally posted in summer of 2013, I’ve changed a few things in the essay. Have fun!!

Word Count: 834

A Different Type
Of Electrifying Performance

A few weeks ago I was awaken in the middle of the night to the booming sounds of a full-blown lightning storm. This was then followed by the sky opening up to release torrential amounts of rain that would make massive ice cream consumption look like a mild alteration to one’s diet. Since I’d been up late the previous night watching the Olympics on TV, I didn’t have any trouble falling back to sleep. Before doing this though, I crawled out of bed and walked over to the window of the apartment where I’m staying. Peeked outside, and had a front row seat to the natural fire works in progress.

What a show it was too, lightning shooting off all over the place that fully lit up the surrounding peaks. Thunderous booms every two or three minutes, and massive amounts of moisture soon following. It looked and felt like the sky was exploding. This brought back all sorts of memories both good and bad for me.

One of the things I dislike about spring skiing, as well as going for day hikes here in the San Juans is having to get up at the butt-crack of dawn in order to do them. Most experts in both areas of outdoor endeavor will tell you that it’s good practice to try and be on the trailhead by 6:00-6:30 am. Before the snow starts melting and the avalanche danger spikes in the case of spring skiing, and before the thunderheads start building up if you’re going for a day hike. Plan to summit the peak and be above timberline and then off it before the clouds build up.

Despite this I’ve still been caught on a few ridges right before the sky released its moisture. My favorite (or least favorite since it’s downright dangerous) is the time my cousin and I tried to bag the summit of Sultan. Happening in late July back in 1971, we actually did start climbing by 6:30 that morning. Unfortunately we ended up bushwhacking our way through an extremely dense stand of trees while working our way up the ridge leading to the summit. By the time we got close to our goal, my cousin broke out into laughter and pointed at me as all my hair started standing up. Yes Mildred, I did have hair on the top of my head at one time.

Anyway, the two of us quickly realized we weren’t in a very optimum place at that exact moment, and hightailed it off the ridge as quickly as possible. We got to timberline just as the first drops of rain hit, and waited out the storm underneath a rock outcropping.

Figuring that I enjoyed the panic aspect of this endeavor so much, God must’ve decided I should experience the phenomenon a few more times in the future. Numerous running and hiking adventures while living in Telluride have resulted in this interesting form of static electricity build up happening. One time it almost felt like lightning hit on the next ridge over from the one we were on that day. It was so loud, felt so close, and was so disconcerting. Additionally, it continues to concern me deeply for the welfare of the competitors whenever an impending thunderstorm is getting ready to open the sky up during the Hardrock 100 and Kendall Mt. races.

Viewing things from the extreme danger aspect of daily thunderstorms and accompanying torrential rains, one has to wonder why do they need to happen in the first place? A somewhat esoteric question and a lot of times when you get caught in them you end up wet, muddy, and downright miserable in almost every situation. Why even try to summit that peak when you’re walking smack dab into black skies in the first place?

On the other hand, a person also needs to look at our monsoon rains from the perspective of my little sister. As she often tells her pre-school students when they’re putting on their rain coats and getting ready to venture out into it, “You’re not made of sugar, you won’t melt.”

The summer monsoons have additional beneficial side effects as well. The resulting wildflower displays are amazing, and the surrounding environment becomes so green that I start to feel like we couldn’t be living in a more beautiful place. After the wildflowers have faded you’ve got the mushrooms and wild raspberries to look forward to. Life in these places one truly feels blessed.

Plus when they’re happening and you’re caught out in the middle of the storm, the resulting lightning displays can be downright incredible. Especially at night. Everything around the peaks dramatically lights up, and the resulting thunder claps sound like God is hammering away with extra gusto. From my perspective it totally stimulates the creative juices to write about the phenomenon. Just don’t get caught in it right as the weather pattern is about to happen if you know what’s best for you.